Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Steve the dream painting penguin

There once was a penguinWho had a nice faceHe kept it attached to his headBecause it was cleaner than the vase

He didn’t go out muchSo he had no use for mace.

The penguin was named SteveHe lived in a little house inside a treeIn a cozy room with windows made of wishesIt was the happiest place a penguin could be

Except of course the AntarcticWhere penguins were thickBut he didn’t live there because work pulled him awayWith such a busy job there’s no time for play.

Steve was a professional dream painterHe worked nights most of the timeHe painted the backdrop of children’s dreamsMaking things wondrous or covered in slime

Out of his bed every night he would climbAnd into the dream world he’d slideWhile he wished for a partner in crimeAcross the night his paintbrush would glide

He painted robots and hilltops and waterfalls and peasTeachers and uncles and other nightmarish thingsThe night was Steve’s sailboatDisbelief was the wind that kept him afloatThe dreams were his seas

He created worlds of wonder And places of fantasyWhere thoughts could blunderAnd wishes could be

He slid in and out of imaginationsBut felt disconnected from his ownFeeling the joy of everyone’s loveBut his distance from everything had grown

Steve couldn’t fit in with the other animals he metNot a kitten or a puppy or another petTrying to talk to a seagull put him in a sweatEven though he listened to “How to make friends and influence people” on cassette.

And the dream creatures made him feel lostSo unreal in their realityWhen he tried to interact they needed to defrostSteve was a creature not of the real nor dream worldSo alone in his tree he curledNot knowing where to belong in actuality.

Then one day as he climbed into dream worldA wizard met him thereWith eyes that looked like everythingAnd nothingness that looked like hair.

He said “Steve I’ve been watching you,You’re a great artist but you seem so sadWhat can I do to help youTo make your workdays less bad?”

Then the wizard gave him some magic pencilswith which he could draw a brand new friendA companion for fun times to be hadSo that the loneliness could end.

And so the penguin drew a giant bunnyto be his friend and laugh at things that were funnyAnd wipe his nose when it got runnyFrom crying with joy because life was too sunny.

With a squirt of a rainbow And the laugh of an impThe bunny was aliveMore real than Steve could know

The bunny loved scaring kidsTaking over their nightmares and dreamsHis terror and anger were off the gridsHe scared them so much he could eat their screams.

And Steve realized he had created something evilAnd he found the wizard sitting on a hillHe asked “How do I make this go away?So dream land can be free another day?”

And the wizard told Steve of a cave by the ocean sideWhere monsters and creatures of darkness resideWhere dwelled a monster with whom he should be alliedWho owned an eraser Created anxiously by a pacerwhich the fate of the world would decide

So across the dreams Steve sailedRain pouring down like the sky had criedHis destination the nighttime had veiledBut he found the cave with imagination as his guide.

He passed by monsters and hideous creatures galoreHe shivered and shuddered and trembled some moreUntil he found the monster sitting aloneWho had the eraser and sat on a thrown.

“Will you help me?” Asked Steve“I’ve created a monst- a problem I need to eraseOr else the terrified children of dream landI could never face.”

“Yes I’ll help you,” said the monster.“My name is Ben.I have a magic eraser for a reasonSo let’s get to saving the world then.”

Together they sailed into the nightSteve eyed the eraser with fear and delightWondering what would happen if he erased himselfDisappearing into nothingness behind existence’s shelf

Everything that had happened had been his faultAnd this chaos he really needed to haltIf he erased himself would the darkness go away?Would dream land no longer be plagued by the fey?

“I really enjoy your art,” said Ben to Steve,“It’s unique and it keeps the world of unreality aglow,I think you have a rare talent if you can believeI used to be a dream painter myself, you know.”

Steve’s heart beat quickly as they got to the landWhere the bunny raged against children’s mindsAnd Steve erased him with one single flipper handReleasing the dreamers from these terror binds.

Back to the way things were they started to goLack of reality was reestablished high and lowSteve had saved the day so that dreamers could playEverything went back to normal and everyone went on their way.